


Revolutionaries

by julie



Series: The Judas Riffs [3]
Category: Jesus Christ Superstar - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Canonical Character Death, Fate & Destiny, Gen, M/M, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-07
Updated: 2007-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23631010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julie
Summary: Judas and Simon share very different ideas about how Jesus might progress their cause.
Relationships: Jesus Christ & Judas Iscariot, Jesus Christ/Judas Iscariot, Judas Iscariot/Simon Zealotes (Jesus Christ Superstar)
Series: The Judas Riffs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701079
Kudos: 6





	Revolutionaries

**Author's Note:**

> This story again explores possible reasons behind Judas’s betrayal. 
> 
> **Warnings:** Believers may find these stories challenging, wrongheaded or just plain distasteful – but all I can do is assure you that I mean no disrespect to Jesus. Please remember that the stories are told from Judas’s point of view, and ultimately Jesus remains an enigma to him.
> 
> **First published:** 7 January 2007 on Harlequin's Slash Site

# Revolutionaries

♦

‘Jesus…’ he murmured as his seed spilled in the desert. ‘ _Jesus_ …’

‘You think of _him_ every time.’ Simon muttered the complaint against his back.

Judas shrugged the man off, turned to face him. ‘Don’t you?’

Simon closed his eyes and lay back on their discarded robes. ‘Maybe I think of you.’

‘Yeah, right.’

They lay there for a while, silent and not touching, each alone, while the evening’s warmth dwindled. At the first breath of cooler air, they got up, almost as one, and brushed themselves off, covered themselves.

The makeshift camp was only a few minutes walk away, but they were already debating again by the time they got there. Judas was sure that he and Simon disagreed at some fundamental level – after all, he’d disagreed with almost every man he’d ever met about the really important things – but their visions for the immediate future accorded. For now, at least. Though neither had been able to raise these issues with the man who mattered most, so they visited their frustrations elsewhere.

‘Love and peace and turning the other cheek,’ Simon grumbled. ‘It’s not enough.’

‘He preaches tolerance,’ Judas quietly chimed in as they settled together on the edges of the camp, ‘and _they tolerate him_! Where’s the use in that?’

‘It’ll never be enough to get the task done.’

Judas carefully scanned their comrades, but all were safely dozing or mentally drifting or talking amongst themselves. ‘He chooses the wrong weapons.’

‘Weapons?’ The former Zealot was suddenly gazing at Judas with more longing than he’d ever shown during their brief encounters of the flesh.

‘Every man in David’s line has been a fighter,’ Judas continued, ‘until now, when we need a fighter most. The Messiah is _not_ supposed to be a man of peace!’

‘Yes, we need a soldier–king, a warrior…’

‘Even the psalms say so. _It is God that girdeth me with strength, and maketh my way perfect. He teacheth my hands to war, so that a bow of steel is broken by mine arms_.’

‘Yes…’ Simon clutched Judas’s shoulder as if already needing to drag him back into the desert.

‘Why ever did you leave the Zealots? They have the right idea. An underground army, hitting where and when we can; that’s what we need if we can’t raise regular troops.’

But Simon had subsided again. He looked across the camp, lifted his chin to indicate the obvious reason for leaving. Redundantly stated what it all came down to: ‘ _Him_.’

Judas shook this off, though he had to turn back to the surrounding darkness in order to remain defiant. ‘We’ll never be free if we don’t fight for it. The Romans are not going to just up and march away! But instead of fighting them, he tries to offend the Pharisees by eating with lepers. Way to take the initiative! What a show of strength!’

One of the nearby disciples, whom Judas had assumed was asleep, said, ‘You know, my mother never ate a meal with us. My own mother.’ He sat up; and Judas saw that it was Mark. ‘If she were alive today, Jesus would treat her with courtesy – none of this considering her unclean – and that does my heart good. I never even thought about it at the time, but he’s made me see it differently now.’

‘The dietary laws are too strict,’ Peter agreed. ‘All this business about who precedes who at the table, who’s more important and who’s least. I love that Jesus just ignores it. Any of us can sit at his right hand when we break bread. _Any_ of us! You can’t tell me you don’t love him for that.’

Judas shrugged. ‘When we’ve won the fight, when we’ve reclaimed our country, when we’ve thrown out those corrupt bastards – the Pharisees,’ he added for the sake of clarity – ‘then you can change these things to suit yourselves. But that comes later. We have to _win_ first.’

‘Well, I can see your point,’ Matthew said from further into the camp.

Hunkering down in the midst of this little group, Judas dared to suggest, ‘What if we did something that they _can’t_ tolerate? Maybe _then_ he’d start preaching a different tune. What if we did something, and they wanted to arrest him, punish him – then he’d _have_ to go underground. He’d _have_ to fight back.’ Judas added, with quiet insistence, ‘You know what they do to false Messiahs.’

‘Whatever anyone calls him,’ said James, ‘and whoever he is – no one can say he is false.’

‘They’d try to disband us! We’d _have_ to fight.’

‘You mean to provoke them – all right, but how?’ asked Peter. ‘What could we do? With his blessing, I mean.’

‘What would he be _prepared_ to do?’ another asked. The whole camp was beginning to stir.

Judas grinned. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know yet. But there’s plenty of laws that outrage him. _Not_ the damned dietary laws, for God’s sake. If we take a stand – if _he_ takes a stand against the law, then he’d have to take a stand against _them_ as well, don’t you see?’

‘Absolutely I see,’ Mark thoughtfully echoed.

And the talk rippled on through the camp until it finally washed up at the feet of Jesus, who sat there calmly, unmoved. They waited for him to speak, to offer a parable, to explain to them why or why not. But he remained silent.

At last Thomas asked timidly, ‘Jesus, will you tell us, so that we know what we must do. Can you tell us this, at least – are you not the Messiah? The saviour of Israel? Will you not make this clear to us?’

Judas was bolder. ‘You _are_ the Messiah!’ he joyfully declared. ‘Our Redeemer! Our Avenger!’ And with a whoop he fell in the sand, lay extravagantly stretched at Jesus’s feet.

Jesus leaned down to stroke his hair, and to softly reprimand him. ‘I am a man, as you are.’

‘Oh, you’re a far far better man than I!’ Judas retorted, to the disciples’ general amusement. No one was going to argue _that_.

‘Judas, you are a clever man, perhaps the cleverest of us all, and yet you think that fighting is the only answer. Why is that?’

‘It’s the only answer they’ll understand.’

‘Perhaps not. And why reduce us to the same blindness?’

‘I’ll reduce them to bones, and their bones to dust,’ Judas vowed. ‘They mean to do you harm, you know! Or they will,’ he added lamely, ‘once they realise.’

But Jesus simply smiled, and continued to gently stroke Judas’s hair, and eventually he began talking again with John about the more mundane matters that had been interrupted. The others, finding that no battle plans were to be drawn that night, mostly dozed off again.

Fearing that he’d soon feel he was being pacified like an unruly child, Judas got up, stalked over to where Simon waited fretting, and dragged him off into the darkness. And again, throughout the encounter, Judas thought only of _him_. The others slept.

♦

And still they slept. Jesus was waiting for him in the moonlit garden, alone amidst his slumbering men.

Judas stopped for a moment in the shadows by the gate, suddenly, surprisingly, overwhelmingly reluctant to go in. The enormity of what he was about to do crushed him. How had he arrived at this place? When had it come to seem a good idea – the best, the only idea – to betray his friend, his leader, the man he loved most in all the world?

He remembered the joy, the thrill, the clarity he’d felt that morning – only that morning! – when Jesus upset the money–changer’s table at the Temple. Jesus had known as well as anyone that it was zero tolerance for any kind of unrest during Passover.

But the soldiers hadn’t found Jesus right away, so Judas had had to bring them here himself. There were only a few of them. Easily overwhelmed by thirteen men, if only Jesus would lead them – as he must. If the others would follow Judas’s example and Simon’s.

And so here he was, soldiers at his back, about to betray his friend. _God, girdeth me_ , he begged.

Jesus waited for him, alone. And when Judas walked out of the shadows towards him, Jesus smiled.

Judas walked steadily on. The soldiers had insisted he identify this man, his teacher, his rabbi, so they’d know who to arrest. He did so. He fell to the grass, stretched full length, and kissed Jesus’s feet. But, no. Jesus was crouching, reaching for him, drawing him up. Kissing his cheek as if they were equals. Looking at him with more compassion than Judas had ever even imagined was possible. Judas stared. What had he done?

The soldiers surrounded them. The disciples were finally waking. Drawing their weapons. At last! Now they were for it! And yet – And yet –

Jesus held out his hands, urging peace. ‘Put away your swords.’

Judas staggered back. It wasn’t mean to end like this! _Dear God, don’t forsake us_ … And oh that infinitely compassionate smile still blessing him with understanding, when all he felt was horror.

♦


End file.
